


Livecast

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Toys, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6269755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A favor returned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Livecast

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea, and then I ran with it.

“I’m only going to do this for you once. _Once_. Do you understand?”

“Until another favor you need me to do comes along, sure.”

“T-This– I didn’t think you’d want me to repay you by–by–by–-”

“Self-interfacing in front of a camera?” Brainstorm asked, his large grin splitting across the small screen.

Quark’s optics flashed. “Precisely,” he growled. The vid-pad was propped up between Quark’s spread legs, showing the perfect view of his crotch, as well as his embarrassed, stubborn face.

“It’ll be fun!” Brainstorm reassured, the screen tinted blue. He leaned forward on his desk. “Just imagine I’m the one giving it to you.”

Quark cocked a browplate. “Giving it… to me…?”

Brainstorm shrugged. “You know.” He stood back, thrusting his pelvis repeatedly with fists swinging at his sides. “The ole UnfUnf–-wait-–!”

Quark had slammed the ‘pad on the floor, his entire face hot and burning.

“I’m sorryyy! Pick me up! The floor is very cold!”

Hesitating a moment, Quark sat the vid-pad back into place.

Brainstorm exvented, relieved. “But seriously,” he said, brushing off his fuselage, “the sooner you start, the better you’ll feel.”

The shame subsided, but Quark was still a little nervous. “I suppose…” He paused. “But maybe we should check the–”

“–coding is all fine. No one, not even that Police Fanboy friend of yours, can crack into this line,” Brainstorm interrupted. “It’s fine, Quark. No one’s gonna see this. Hell, I’m not even recording–though it pains me not to.”

“Don’t record it,” Quark scowled. He exvented again, sitting back. “Right. Let’s do this, then. Sooner the better.”

“Right. Now…” Brainstorm leaned over the desk, until half his face obscured the screen. “Do you have Ministorm?” he asked, glancing around. As if he were attempting to stick his head through the 'pad.

“I’m not calling it that,” Quark growled. Nonetheless, he reached over, out of Brainstorm’s line of view. A second later, he held up Ministorm–a palm-sized, blue and white bullet vibrator, to be exact. Quark’s optics shimmered.

“Ah, there he is,” Brainstorm sighed lovingly, sitting back, “do me proud, Minist–-”

“I will shut this down in a micro-second _so fast_ if you continue calling it that.”

Brainstorm chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Okay.” He leered, optics bright and narrow. “Open those panels.”

Quark swallowed, but pushed his paneling aside, revealing his open channel. Mere inches away from the vid-pad.

“Please don’t hate me,” Brainstorm groaned, “but it’s soooo cuuuuute–-”

Quark reached for the screen, about to lower it.

“I said don’t be mad okay okay! Sorry! Okay, prop me back up. I can’t see your face from this angle.”

'Pad back in place, Quark waited for instructions.

“First off, you need to prep yourself,” Brainstorm explained. “Start with one finger.”

“One finger,” Quark invented deeply, “right. Okay.” He looked at the screen, at Brainstorm’s confident, reassuring smile… For some reason, a little of the weight on his shoulders disappeared. Brainstorm had such a nice smile; playful, mischievous, but it was sincere and full of the utmost adoration and love.

It was hard for Quark to say no to someone who looked at him like that.

Quark slid his hand down between his legs. Brainstorm’s wings twitched. He pressed one finger to the hood of his channel, biting down on his bottom lip as he slowly slid the digit inside.

“Back and forth, back and forth,” Brainstorm instructed, “just like in the washracks–no, don’t stop! Sorry, sorry. Okay, okay. Good. Keep going, just like that.”

Quark felt heat pool into his groin as he languidly thrust his finger inside his channel. Delicate strokes, the mesh walls slowly but surely spreading. He could feel moisture slick around his finger.

Brainstorm could both see and hear it as well. He swallowed. “O-Okay. Now. Introduce the second finger. Increase your pace, but continue with the thrusts.”

Quark nodded. His second digit slid in easily, instantly wetting as it rocked in tandem with his first finger. Quark’s venting picked up a little as he swept past nodes, trying not to lose himself to the growing sensations. A tingle ran up his backstrut, shoulders shuddering. And if not for Brainstorm suddenly chiming in, Quark would have almost forgotten he was being watched.

“That’s good, that’s good,” Brainstorm said, his voice dry and tight, “now… scissoring motions.”

Quark wiggled, getting comfortable. He stopped thrusting, settling his fingers in knuckle deep before opening and closing them repeatedly. Sometimes he went fast, sometimes he went slow, but his plating was beginning to rattle, and the moment Brainstorm saw a line of lubricant trickle from Quark’s channel, he quickly pulled himself back to reality and nearly squawked, “ _Quark_!”

Quark stopped immediately, optics flying open.

“T-That’s great,” Brainstorm tittered, giving a thumbs up. “Good prepping, buddy. But I think it’s time for Min–my much smaller replacement.”

“C-Calling it that d-doesn’t help,” Quark grumbled, removing his fingers. He glanced at them quickly, cheeks blushing hot at the lubricant staining his hand. He cleared his vocalizer and picked up the bullet with the same sticky fingers.

Brainstorm sat forward. “We’re gonna start with the lowest speed, and once you’ve adjusted, we’re gonna kick it to the highest.”

“I…” Quark sighed. No. He didn’t want to argue. With a charge going and an ache building in his channel, he was just as eager to continue, no matter how crazy it might turn out to be. He clicked the bullet’s button once, switching it on; it shook in soft vibrations, buzzing lowly.

“Slowly drag the vibrator along your folds; right first, left second,” Brainstorm insisted.

Quark lowered the vibrator between his legs, pressing the toy to his right fold. He shook briefly before recomposing himself. He watched Brainstorm on the screen as he dragged the bullet down his right fold, then up his left.

Brainstorm licked his lips, optics wide. “Keep–keep doing that, until I tell you to stop,” he mumbled.

Quark could hear something click on the other side. He knew that sound immediately, and repressed the urge to laugh. Still, he followed Brainstorm’s instructions, working the toy up and down his folds, pressing down just hard enough to turn them plump and engorged. His channel walls clenched as his arousal grew, hot and heavy.

After the eighth stroke, Brainstorm raised a hand. “Stop!” This time he did yelp. “Ah, now… Now we get down to business. If you… if you just lean back a little bit more, prop yourself up on your elbows. Scoot closer–okay, there you go, there you go. Now… spread those legs just a biiiit wider…”

Quark obliged, peering down his chest at the glowing video screen. The vibrator hummed away, uselessly dangling in the air as the white bot waited for further orders.

“Press it inside… Slowly…”

Quark bit down on his bottom lip, swallowing his gasp as the vibrator quivered past his folds, inside his channel. One of Brainstorm’s hands had disappeared beneath the desk.

“Like with your fingers, start thrusting. Nice and shallow; work up a groove.”

Quark nodded. As he started moving the bullet inside of him, it was becoming harder and harder to control the noises.

“Don’t hold back, love.”

Quark winced, embarrassed.

“I want all of you,” Brainstorm smirked, “even your cute little squeaks.”

“S-Shut–ah!” Quark gasped, lurching as the vibrator hit his ceiling node. Maybe it was Brainstorm’s kind words, or maybe he just didn’t care anymore, but Quark let out a low groan. More tension seemed to disappear as he let go; closing his optics, he sunk back on an elbow, relaxing.

The vibrator’s thrusts were steady, but quickly becoming monotonous, however.

As if he could feel it too, Brainstorm cleared his throat and said, “H-Hit it. Highest speed. Just two clicks of the button.”

Quark didn’t think about it when he double-clicked the button, but when the speed suddenly increased–Quark shrieked, buckling forward, clenching down on the toy. “P-Primus, _o-oh_!” he whimpered, frame shaking.

“Y-Yeah,” Brainstorm coughed, his hand moving beneath the desk, “Primus an’ all that sl–n-now, start thrusting. _Harder_.”

Quark keened at the first hard thrust. His wrist shook as he continued pumping the vibrator inside his quivering channel, spilling more and more lubricant. “Nn, B-Brainstorm,” he whined, looking at his partner almost desperately.

Brainstorm was mesmerized by the sight of the toy as it moved inside of Quark’s channel. The view was… quite breathtaking, actually. “Still t-thrusting,” he croaked, “start s-swirling it. Move it in–in circles. K-Keep up the speed.”

Quark moved the vibrator in a swift circle, nearly collapsing. “Scrap!” he shouted, his optics blazing blue. “Oh, scrap, _ah_ –-!”

“Thrust _harder_!” Brainstorm cried, his voice nearly as high strung as his partner’s. The way the vibrator hummed, the noises it made as Quark thrust it inside, slapping wetly against his folds and channel–Brainstorm’s spark kept skipping pulses. “Right, right! Okay, n-now now smack your channel!”

Quark nearly dropped the vibrator, head thrown forward. “W-What?”

“Just do it!”

Quark would have argued with Brainstorm on how silly and ridiculous the idea of slapping his own channel was, but… Well, he wasn’t quite in his right mind at the moment. Instead, he used the vibrator to gently smack his folds.

“N-No,” Brainstorm grumbled, “harder! With your hand! K-Keep the vibrator going, just-–”

Quark smacked his free hand over his channel, right above the hood. He squeaked, hips bouncing forward in reflex. He was surprised to find the stinging sensation wasn’t nearly as painful as he initially believed.

“Yes!” Brainstorm cheered. “Do it again do it again!”

Without thinking, Quark slapped his folds again, still holding the vibrator inside of him. And, maybe because he was just so damn intrigued by the weird pleasurable sensation the smack caused, he struck his channel a third time without prompting. He choked on his gasp, optics wide and face twisted with confusion.

“T-That–-”

“Don’t think, don’t think, just do it again!”

Quark did. Again, and again, and again, until his folds were swollen, tinted a slight purple from energon rising to the thin dermal surfaces. He vented loudly, mouth hanging open.

Brainstorm’s own hand was furiously working his erection off beneath the table. “Press the vibrator against your ceiling node, hard,” he huffed and puffed, “and l-leave it there!”

Quark grit his teeth, thrusting and pinning the edge of the toy against his anterior node. He held it down, his vision suddenly blurring. He could barely think, CPU bogged down with a strange, exhilarating rush. “B-Brainstorm,” he groaned, heels scrambling against the floor, “I–I–”

“Thrust and swirl, thrust and swirl!” Brainstorm half-snapped. Quark was open-mouth panting now, tongue lolling; his overload steadily approaching, coming in heavy. “N-Now, imagine you a-and me–y-you riding me, a-and we’re riding on a–a Praxian pegasus–-”

Quark threw his head back. “ _Brainstorm_!” he screeched.

“I’m sorry! Don’t lose momentum! That was really bad, scrap–Keep going!”

Brainstorm’s voice started to fade in his audiols. He could hear his own sparkpulse thumping in his head. His optics rolled back, and he stopped every few seconds to push down against his ceiling node before returning to thrust-and-swirl.

Brainstorm was nearly stretched out and laying on the table now. The noises Quark was making–they came in faster, long strings of whimpers, moans, ah-ah-ahs. Desperate and needy and impatient. His hips bucked back and forth, riding into the vibrator, and all the while Brainstorm got a front seat to the action.

“B-Brainstorm, m'gonna–ah!–I’m gonna…” Quark trailed off into another heavy moan, armor click-claking against his frame.

“M-Me too, me too,” Brainstorm wheezed, “so now… just… thrust! _Thrust_!”

Quark screamed as he pressed the vibrator deep inside of him, finally pulling the trigger. His entire body went rigid, his head suddenly light and heavy at the same time, and like a wave, his overload crashed through his body. “B-Brainstorm…” he groaned. Transfluid squirt from around the throbbing vibrator, splashing the screen just as Brainstorm crumbled into his own climax.

When it was all over, Quark went limp. His claspers were throbbing, matching the pulse of his spark. He yanked out the vibrator, and almost threw it on the floor. Energy completely depleted, he flopped over, spread out like a boneless puddle.

A minute later, a small, weak voice called for him.

“Quark? Q-Quark?”

Quark struggled, propping himself up on an elbow. He picked up the 'pad with a shivering hand, holding it to his face. “That… that was…” He paused, finally grabbing the vibrator and switching it off. “… S-Something else.”

“Intense, y-you mean,” Brainstorm chuckled breathlessly. He was wiping his hand clean with a rag. “That was–wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

Quark adjusted his crooked glasses. “N-Never again,” he mumbled. He looked away as he quickly wiped the transfluid messily from the screen.

Brainstorm frowned. “But I won’t be back for another week,” he whined. “… Three days from now?”

Quark narrowed his optics. He glared at the vibrator, then the screen. “Maybe,” he said, very, very quietly.

Brainstorm, however, did not push. He smiled. “Now hold me close to your spark,” he said, “let’s pretend we’re cuddling and bathing in the afterglow.”

Quark huffed. “You’re…” He was going to say “stupid,” but then he was laying down again, holding the screen to his chest and listening to Brainstorm hum happily.


End file.
